I do not own Once Upon a Time

Chapter 11 In like a Lion

It was a cold winter that year, with blizzard winds piling snow against the tiny shanty, causing Ralph and Belle to struggle to get to the barn each morning. During one of the Blizzard lulls, Ralph had hung a cord from the shanty to the barn, so that they didn't get lost and freeze. You couldn't see in a blizzard, not a foot in front of you, and if you were off, even by a foot, you could completely miss the house or barn and die a few yards from warmth. They wouldn't risk anything, therefore the cord that would guide them.

Another small lull happened in January, and bells jingling in the finally silent prairie ushered in some very welcome visitors. Belle stayed by the door until the knock was heard, and opened the door to let in a very cold, very bundled couple of Nolands.

'Mary Margret! Mr. Noland! So very good to see you!' She helped Mary Margret peel her winter layers and showed them to their meager chairs.

'I hope we aren't intruding. Mr. Ralph mentioned that you might not be adverse to the idea of a visit.' Mary Margret said quietly, as she laid her dainty hands in her lap. Belle immediately got to work preparing tea.

'We are so happy you've come to visit.' Belle beamed at them, hoping that she set them at ease. After almost a year of not seeing anyone outside of her own tiny little circle, it was such a treat to have such a visit. She just didn't know if her social skills were up to the task anymore.

Ralph looked less comfortable than Belle had seen him since he had arrived, but after a few attempts at conversation, the tension he held seemed to lessen.

'Quite a winter we are having, this year.' He spoke, after David Noland commented on the shortened hay harvest and the sheer number of blizzards that had happened in such a short amount of time.

'You are very right.' David replied. 'I've been here five years, and I haven't seen one like this one. Winter never lasts forever though.' Only knowing Mary Margret and David a little while, Belle could already tell they were eternal optimists. 'Soon enough we will be planting again.'

'Aye.' Ralph nodded and there was a bit of stilted silence that filled the shanty.

As the men began talking about future farming strategies and hopes for future harvests and expansions, Belle began to chat with Mary Margret about her own hopes and plans for the future.

'How does married life suit you?' Belle began.

Mary Margret reddened and stole a glance at her husband, a smile shyly playing on her face.

'Very well, though sometimes we feel a little too close in proximity to my parents. They constantly use David to further their own plans without getting much input from him . My stepmother is rather controlling and Father does whatever she says. David is sometimes a little too sweet for his own good, I'm afraid.' She smiled at the last part. 'But he is sweet, and kind.' Her smile reached her eyes.

Belle leaned a little closer and put down her cup.

'I am so glad to hear that. Ralph told me that he was kind to him, and there are so few that show Ralph half the kindness he deserves that puts him pretty high in my estimation.'

Belle felt her cheeks get hot, and she hoped that Ralph was still engaged enough to not hear their exchange. A glance in his direction showed that he was still very much into the men's conversation, however, his eyes wandered from Papa, who was speaking at the time and found hers. He smiled shyly at the moment their eyes met, and his eyes sparkled.

Once she tore away from Ralph and looked back at Mary Margret, the latter's eyes were wide and she was fighting her own smile.

'So. uh-I-uh, what about you? Have you found a kind and sweet person of your own?' She fidgeted with her fingers and her cheeks soon matched Belle's at her own brazen words. Belle smiled and nodded.

'Perhaps.' Belle remained cryptic.

'Ralph? Well, I can tell that you like him very much.'

'Yes, and Mmmm, you could say that. I hope both you and David will join us this spring as we plan to wed then.'

'How wonderful!' Mary Margret squealed and it caused the men to pause and look their way in curiosity.

'Belle just shared the good news of her and Ralph. Congratulations to you both.'

Ralph nodded and reddened when David patted him on the back. Papa chuckled, and Belle gave a quiet thanks.

All knew a quiet day could turn at the blink of an eye, so after a time they bid farewell and bundled themselves back up. The shanty seemed quiet and lonely once they left. That night another blizzard moved through the prairie, the wind shaking the shanty and threatening them with cold.

The morning was no better. Blakey's milk production had taken a dive, and Ralph insisted to go out alone to feed the animals. As the temperature lowered, so did the animals' need for an increase in feed. The French farm was in a state of unrest, and the winds seemed to match the swirling emotions that filled the people living inside it. The group was feeling the effects of the meager harvest they had that year.

…

Belle leaned closer to the stove, warming her hands before she adjusted her shawl around her shoulders and went back to knitting. It was soothing as it was worrying to watch her hunched over the bundle of yarn turning into a new shawl to replace the one she was wearing. It was cold, so cold. Ralph could feel it straight to his bones. The walk from the barn and back each morning was excruciating as the cold settled a permanent ache that didn't seem to want to go away. Mr. French felt the effects of the cold in his lungs, and it seemed they were in a constant state of wheezing.

'March 10 and not a blessed calm day for every fifteen. Haven't even been able to turn earth, we'll be having another late harvest if we can't get things going soon.' Mr. French growled under his breath-or at least as much of a growl as he was able at the moment. He was frustrated with his breathing, and had gone to cursing the weather on a frequent basis to release his frustration.

'As David Noland said, winter can't last forever. The blizzards have to calm soon. They have to.' Belle's voice became quieter with each sentence, and her father tried to give her a glare that matched the icy wind, but thought better of it at Belle's wistful demeanor. It was encouragement given from a heart that didn't believe themselves. Supplies were getting thin, and if they didn't replenish them soon, they wouldn't make it to a spring to plant regardless.

Later Ralph helped Belle with the dishes and whispered. 'I think I should take the next calm day and try to get supplies from town. I have a little money from last year that should get us enough to last until the next harvest.'

Belle's blue eyes looked up in wide concern.

'But calm days are not only infrequent but of short duration! You could get caught in one a hundred feet away and get lost-and-and-I-we would never see you again.'

Belle shivered and her voice quaked with a rising panic.

Ralph put a hand on her shoulder to calm her.

'It's that' his voice lowered. 'Or we starve. I have to try, Belle.' He laced his voice with confidence he didn't have, but Belle nodded in a calm sort of surrender.

It was five days later before they had calm. The sky was deceptively blue and looked like it should be warmer than the well below freezing that it was. Ralph put on as many layers as he owned-more than he had come with him all those many months ago, thanks mostly to Belle. His foot throbbed, but he tried to ignore it as he went to get in the wagon. Belle bundled herself to see him to the wagon. Her eyes were bright from the cold, and the bit of nose sticking out of her scarf was already turning pink with cold. Ralph soaked in her beautiful face and the kindness reflected in her eyes. He would never understand why she cared about him-cared for him so much. He would never understand it, but he would relish it. This might be the last time he saw her, and he would embrace every second, though he knew he needed to get on his way, as a storm could blow through anytime.

'M-may I kiss you again, Belle?' He stammered. It would only be their second kiss if they did. Mr. French's presence kept them very easily on the straight and narrow. Belle nodded, and a crystal tear froze on her eyes as she pulled down her scarf. Ralph cupped her face with his one free hand, gave her a chaste but soft kiss, and traced her face with his thumb, memorizing every inch of its' features.

'I'll be back, alright sweetheart? Have a pot of beans waiting on me when I get back?'

Belle attempted to smile, but it landed only halfway towards her eyes.

'Of course, my love. Hurry back, but don't do anything foolish. Don't risk anything if there's even a single dark cloud, you hear me?'

He chuckled softly at her concern. Such things were almost as beautiful as her kisses.

'I promise.' He smiled down and then turned to climb into the wagon. He dared glance back once to see her figure waving at him and turned towards town. He would be back. He would come back to her.

…

A pot of beans were simmering on the stove, and outside was dark as night, a blustery wind was pounding against the shanty, and snow seemed to swirl in all directions. There was no Ralph. His original expected arrival would have been a couple of hours ago, but the wind and some snow had already begun to pick up before then. He would have set out, only to be met with an unforgiving blizzard. Tears stung Belle's cheeks, her heart pounded, and her feet paced.

'Issy, you are going to have to stop that, you will drive your Papa mad!'

'I'm sorry, Papa, I just-I just.' Belle flung her arms around her unsuspecting father and about knocked him off his chair.

Papa had never been much of a comforter, but she couldn't help it. Ralph was out there. He was out there frozen in the wind. He wouldn't last long. They would find him-they would find him dea… no she couldn't think such things. Ralph was always stronger than he looked. She would have faith and keep beans simmering over the stove to prove her faith in him.

That night she sat hunched over her chair, face in her hands, shawl tightened around her arms, as if it could bring any comfort. She laced her fingers together in a pleading position. Oh God. God please. Just let him come back. Please. The words went over and over in her mind as tears spilled from her eyes. She hadn't the willpower to even wipe them away. Every thought she had was for him. Imagining him in a snowbank, imagining how cold he would have been. She willed him to be alright with every fiber of her being. She glanced up from the stove from time to time, hoping that her tearful pleadings, though quiet, didn't wake her father. He was worried for Ralph. While he assured her that Ralphy was a smart boy who would have stayed in town, but his eyes and shaking voice did nothing to reassure her. She saw it. She saw the resignation in his eyes. The blizzard had been so sudden, and would have happened while he was traveling. He was never coming back, and her face fell back in her hands and she sobbed.

For five days the wind howled and screamed. The cold felt colder than it had before, merely for the fact that Ralph was not there. Belle made a pot of beans each day and let it simmer until the wee hours of the morning. Papa had shaken his head and worried over the dwindling amount of beans that they had. They had already foregone cornbread to go with their meals so as to save the dwindling supply of that as well.

On the sixth day, the month not caring that it was about to open its door to April, the sun dared shine. The sky broke through the clouds and attempted to lighten the world. Belle could not be comforted. Her spirits could not be lifted. She stumbled through the snow as she tended to the animals. Blakey's bellows couldn't cheer her, the chickens clucking only seemed tedious to her. She hated the snow, she hated the cold, she hated the farm, she just wanted…she just wanted. Her brain couldn't finish any thoughts. If they finished a thought then it would make things more concrete. Instead her brain functioned on hazy holds on reality. Her appetite deserted her, and sleep evaded her, her eyes were red rimmed. She struggled on the way back to the shanty to make her seventh pot of beans.

The calm almost mocked her worse than the barking wind. Her ears were on alert constantly, picking up any measly distant noise of the barn residents, or the soft wheezing of Papa. She heard creaking. She couldn't hear creaking, could she? No. She heard a snort. A horses snort that sounded so eerily similar to one of the old horses that had trekked with them to this forsaken prairie. It couldn't be, could it?

Suddenly she was throwing every layer of clothing she could quickly reach, her father giving her a quizzical expression. Belle flung the door open and there, coming up slowly was a sight she never thought she would see again. She ran. Belle ran as fast as her feet could carry her. Propriety and snow could hang.

Ralph! Ralph! Oh Ralph!' Her voice screamed to the vast prairie, the sound floating on the silent vastness. She didn't care that tears were blinding her eyes. Ralph was home.

'Someone missed me, I see.' His voice cracked with emotion. He reached out to her and pulled her up to the wagon and Belle immediately wrapped her arms around him and sobbed on his shoulder.

'There, there, sweetheart. I know. I'm alright, see? I just followed your orders, is all. Saw one dark cloud and asked Jones if I could stay the night. Laughed in my face until the storm came suddenly not two hours later.'

Belle had somewhat composed herself once they got to the barn. Now she had a new worry.

'Jones' store is quite empty, I'm afraid. I bought anything I thought would help get us through, but no train is getting through all this snow. Won't be getting anything more until it thaws.'

Belle's shoulders slumped. She recovered quickly though and placed her hand on Ralph's arm for a moment. It was a comfort just to have him with her. Every situation had a bit of sunshine with him so close.

'We'll get through this.' She said as much comfort to him as willing it to be. 'As long as we are together, we can get through this.'

He seemed to catch her meaning and smiled back at her. As David Noland had said, winter couldn't last forever-could it?

Author's Note: More of Ralph's perspective on all this in the next chapter, as winter isn't over yet.
I based this on 'The Long Winter' (you can read more about it in The Long Winter by Laura Ingalls) that happened across the northern part of the US in 1880-81. This means I'm fudging with the time a little (As this would 'technically be 81-82), but it's fanfiction, so I am fudging, lol
I also want to admit that I live in a warmer climate that hardly gets snow but maybe once a year, so my knowledge of blizzards are only what I've read and researched, so bare with any inaccuracies you may find.
Thank you, as always for reading. There may be a bonus chapter, as this wound up being longer than I originally thought. Either way, we are almost at the end!